


Piecing Back Together

by alicedragons



Series: Ownership [2]
Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: Angst, Escaping a domestic abuse situation, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Mild Fluff, Past Abuse, Past Domestic Violence, Past Rape/Non-con, Psychological Trauma, healing from abuse
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-29
Updated: 2018-09-29
Packaged: 2019-07-18 15:48:17
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,150
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16121705
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/alicedragons/pseuds/alicedragons
Summary: Leaving an abuser is hard. Healing from their abuse is even harder. Edge will be the glue Rus needs to hold himself together for as long as he needs to be.





	Piecing Back Together

**Author's Note:**

> Part 1 is **[here](https://archiveofourown.org/works/15849033)** in case you haven't read it (warning: it contains rape and domestic abuse, so tread with caution). This piece is entirely hurt/comfort, but although the hurt is past, it's pretty heavy, so please take note of the tags.  
>  This was somewhat inspired by **[this](https://hj-skb.tumblr.com/post/177852136529/recurring-nightmare-not-directly-related-to-the)** incredible piece of art by hj-skb on tumblr. I really needed to give Rus something of a happier ending after seeing it. Hurt/comfort is my biggest kink.

But for the quiet tapping of Edge’s fingers against the steering wheel, the car was silent. It was well after midnight, and the street was still. Pale lamplight illuminated the quaint gardens and hedgerows. Edge sat in the dark.

He was parked next to the curb of a very particular house. He glanced up at the second floor. The windows were dark and the curtains drawn. Ten minutes. He’d messaged Rus ten minutes ago, and he hadn’t emerged. Edge knew he could walk up to the door, march inside, and get Rus himself.

But he also knew he couldn’t do that. Not if he really cared about Rus.

He vaguely wondered if this was a waste of time. He’d been through this process before, and Rus had shied away at the last minute. It wasn’t unlikely to happen again. In fact, Edge had come to expect it. But that didn’t matter. He’d wait all night here if he had to, regardless of whether Rus followed through or not.

Hinges creaked, and Edge looked up at once. The front door slowly swung open, and—a jolt of relief went through him. Rus looked rather the worse for wear, ~~though, when didn’t he?~~ He was hunched over, fist tight around the strap of his bag, which looked pitifully empty. Even from this distance, Edge could sense his confliction. He was walking slowly and uncertainly, as if he might turn back at any second.

Edge climbed out of the car and walked stridently over to Rus. “Let me take this,” he said gently, slowly pulling Rus’s bag off his shoulder. Rus didn’t protest, but he was stiff.

After loading Rus’s bag into the trunk, Edge opened the passenger door for him. Rus hesitated before climbing inside. Edge sat in the driver’s seat next to him, but didn’t start the car. They sat in silence, and the minutes ticked by. Edge glanced at Rus and noticed flushed orange bruising around his jaw. His soul shrivelled. He yearned to reach out and touch him.

Instead, he started the car, and they drove in silence.

The roads were quiet this late at night, and the city lights rushed past them as Edge pulled onto the highway. In his periphery, he could see the listless slouch of Rus’s shoulders; his expression was taut, and his hands were fisted on his knees. The silence between them was heavy.

“You did the right thing,” Edge said quietly.

“i left my soulmate.” Rus’s voice was rough from disuse. Much like the rest of him, it sounded thin and lifeless.

“Your abuser,” Edge corrected calmly, though his marrow boiled. He heard Rus shifting, and his bones cracked as he stiffened. Red light moved across his face as they passed under a billboard. His jaw was trembling. “It’s okay to feel upset about it,” Edge said. “It’ll take time to—”

“yes, i _know_ it’ll take time,” Rus snapped.

Swallowing his words, Edge went silent. He inhaled and nodded. “I’m here for you, okay? Every step of the way.” He dared a glance at Rus. He was staring at his shoes, and his arms were wrapped around himself. They drove the rest of the way in silence.

 

When they pulled into Edge’s driveway, Rus didn’t get out of the car. Edge got his bag out of the trunk then walked around to the passenger side and opened the door. “Would you like to come inside?” he asked, ensuring his tone was gentle.

Rus didn’t answer, but he climbed out of the car and followed Edge to the doorstep. He was still clinging to himself. It was a warm night, but he wore a turtleneck and jeans. Edge knew why. _~~Knew what was underneath those clothes. They were his safety barrier~~. _

Flicking on the light of the front hall, Edge turned to Rus, forcing a faint smile. “Would you like something to eat?” he asked. Chin lowered, Rus shook his head. Edge swallowed, his smile fading. “I’ll make you some tea, how about that?” A weak nod. Edge reached for Rus before his mind caught up, and he quickly let his hand drop.

They sat across from each other at the dining room table. Rus sipped his tea slowly. His bones were pale, almost sallow. The natural flush was missing from them. Edge might not have noticed it had he not seen that same look on his own face, years and years ago.

Neither of them made any attempt at conversation. Edge doubted Rus was in the right mind for it. Once they had finished drinking, Edge gathered their mugs and washed them in the sink. “I’ve set up the bedroom for you,” he told Rus, who had remained in his seat, hunched in on himself. “I’ll take the couch.”

Rus shook his head. “no, i’ll sleep on the couch.”

“It’s no bother.”

“i’ll sleep on the couch,” Rus repeated brusquely. Edge watched him, considering, then nodded.

“If that’s what you want,” he said.

He found a pillow and duvet, along with a few extra blankets for Rus, and set them out on the sofa. “If you need anything, I’m just down the hall,” he said, smoothing the blankets out. “Don’t be afraid to wake me.”

“thank you,” Rus murmured quietly, climbing beneath the covers. He curled up tightly and turned his back on Edge. Soberly, Edge turned and walked away. He went to bed with a heavy soul. Even down the passage, he could hear Rus sobbing softly.

****

The vibrating of Rus’s phone on the coffee table rang in Edge’s skull like an alarm. Razz’s number glared on the screen. Rus sat on the sofa, staring at it, chewing on the tips of his fingers. His expression was drawn, and he was shaking.

“You don’t have to answer it,” Edge said quietly. Rus’s breath hitched, and tears leaked from his sockets. He wrung his hands together, choking back sobs. Edge shifted closer to him, but held back. He couldn’t be certain how Rus might react to touch under these circumstances (or any circumstances, for that matter).

The call went to voicemail. Edge’s chest tightened sickeningly as Razz’s voice came through. “Rus, sweetheart, where are you? Call me right now. Please.” A deep breath. “Don’t do this to me. You can’t do this to me. Come home.” After a few seconds, the call went quiet.

Edge looked at Rus. His face was tear streaked and scrunched in anguish. He pressed a hand over his mouth and choked. Edge moved closer to him. Their shoulders brushed. “Remember, Rus, you owe him nothing.”

Rus squeezed his sockets shut and shook his head, sobbing. “he’s my s-soulmate.”

“He’s your _abuser,_ ” Edge said firmly. Rus pressed his knuckles against his teeth as he bit back tears. Cautiously, Edge rested his hand over Rus’s. “You’ll be okay,” he said gently. “Do you understand me? You’ll be okay.”

Minutes went by, and Rus sobbed quietly. Edge squeezed his hand wordlessly, waiting patiently while he gathered himself. After a few shuddering breaths, Rus nodded tremulously. Edge held his hand tighter. “You’re doing well, Rus. _So_ well. It’ll get easier, I promise.”

****

“I need to see him. I know he’s here.”

Edge sighed, and closed the front door behind him, edging Razz out onto the porch. “He doesn’t want to see you,” he said.

“Maybe he doesn’t think he does,” Razz replied coldly, “but I know him better than you do. He needs me.”

Edge inhaled, forcing himself to remain cool. “No, he doesn’t.” Razz tried to walk around Edge, but Edge placed himself between Razz and the door. “You’re not coming inside, Razz.”

“He’s my soulmate,” Razz spat, all diplomacy removed. “I have every right to see him.”

“You have no right,” Edge said, his tone erring on dangerous. “After everything you’ve done to him. After all the times you’ve r—” Edge caught himself, and swallowed back the spitting fire curling within him. “He does not belong to you. Razz. Now go. This is my property, and you are not welcome here.” Across the street, Edge noticed his neighbour giving him a strange look from her garden. He paid her no heed, his perilous stare trained on the monster in front of him. “I will call the police if I must.”

“Don’t bother,” Razz said through gritted teeth. He turned on his heel, fists curled at his sides, and stormed towards his car. Edge didn’t go back inside until his car was a speck on the road. He locked the door behind himself before heading to the living room.

Rus was on the sofa. He was staring blankly at the wall, knees pulled to his chest, arms wrapped around them. Edge moved swiftly across the room and sat beside him. He lifted an arm to rest around Rus’s shoulders, then reconsidered, and withdrew. “He’s gone,” he said, voice low.

Rus’s jaw was clenched. He nodded stiffly. His eye sockets were wet. Edge swallowed, unsure what to do with himself. “Would you like some tea?” he asked.

“please sit with me,” Rus said raspily.

Edge nodded. “Of course.”

Neither of them spoke, and silence weighed on the room. Though the sun was warm outside, Edge felt cold. Nausea pooled in the depths of his chest, and he felt himself trembling, his thoughts still lingering on Razz. Beside him, Rus’s breaths sounded ragged.

Edge’s bones were beginning to grow stiff when he felt Rus’s fingers creeping across his own. Rus rested his hand on top of Edge’s, still hugging himself with one arm, still tense. Edge looked at him, but Rus was staring directly ahead, focused but unseeing. Slowly, Edge responded to Rus’s touch, flexing his fingers and intertwining them with Rus’s.

His anger began to seep away, something else—something intangible—taking its place. He closed his eyes and exhaled, leaning back. Rus hardly moved, but Edge could feel him relaxing. The atmosphere grew softer, the tension smoothing. Though Rus’s fingers still trembled, they began to feel warm.

****

Edge bid Rus goodnight and headed to his bedroom. He could hear thunder rolling distantly, and the beginnings of soft raindrops pattering against the roof. After changing into his night clothes, he climbed into bed, pulling the covers to his chin.

Sleep was slowly creeping across the borders of his mind when he heard his bedroom door creaking. He sat bolt upright, alert. Rus froze in the doorway. Edge blinked, staring at him. “Rus.”

He looked so pitifully scarce in his thin tank top and loose pyjama pants. More bruises were visible on his clavicle and arms. Edge could see the series of numbers printed across his ulna. _~~Marking him as property~~. _ He pushed back a flicker of anger. “Is everything okay?” he asked.

“can…” Rus swallowed, his voice faint. “can i sleep here?”

“O-of course,” Edge said, climbing out of bed.

“no. with you.”

Edge froze with one foot on the carpet. “Oh.” He opened his mouth, then shook his head. “I—yes. Whatever you need.”

Rus climbed into the bed beside him. It was large enough for both of them, but Edge could still perceive him as if their bodies were pressed together. His magic, though weak, was warm in the air. Edge lay stiff beside him, uncertain how to proceed.

Rus turned onto his side, facing Edge. His face was pressed against the pillow, but Edge could see tears glistening on his cheekbones. He swallowed and closed his eyes. His voice was so soft, Edge almost missed his words. “c-can you… can you hold me?”

Edge inhaled, his soul pulsing. “I…” He fidgeted beneath the duvet.

“you haven’t been touching me,” Rus said. “is it—is it because i’m—”

Edge’s soul plummeted. Sighing, he shook his head. “No,” he said, earnestly. “No, it’s not. You’re not—”

Rus’s breath stuttered and he sniffed. “i’m sorry,” he whispered, his voice cracking. “i’m sorry that i’m—b-broken.”

Edge couldn’t take another second of this. He reached for Rus and pulled him against his chest, wrapping him tightly in his arms. He could feel the wetness of Rus’s tears through his shirt. He could feel tears on his own face. “You’re not broken,” he said. “You’re not.” He spoke through his teeth, desperate. “You’re strong, Rus. You’re so strong. And you’re going to get through this.”

“please don’t let go,” Rus whispered, clinging to Edge’s ribs through his shirt.

Edge squeezed him tighter. “I’m not letting go of you—not again. Not ever. I’m here for you, always. Okay?”

Rus’s breaths were heavy and uneven. He held onto Edge desperately, pressing himself into him, as if he couldn’t get close enough. Eventually, he fell asleep in Edge’s arms, but Edge couldn’t bring himself to do the same. Not when he could finally hold Rus like this. Not when he could finally feel the soft pulse of Rus’s soul through his chest.

He felt warm again.


End file.
